Work Text:
non com·pos men·tis
These words signify not of sound mind, memory, or understanding.
[Latin n n compos mentis : n n, not + compos, in control + mentis, genitive sing. of m ns, mind.]
I slumped down in a hard metal chair that resided on the patio of the Bean Bag Café - a coffee house that provided a caffeine rush to many of the tourists and residents that made their way down Divisadero Street every day, in this lovely city of San Francisco. I glanced about at the people, the city, the stars, much as I did every night.
Why did I come back here? Back to where it all began. What am I looking for?
I propped my boots up on the chair out in front of me, frowning in what others, I'm sure, would perceive as concentration, when in reality I was glaring at the pack of cigarettes taunting me from the breast pocket of my black button-up shirt. Cigarettes I couldn't smoke anymore. I reached up and withdrew the pack, placing it on the table. Then I took one out, turning it round and round between my fingers.
Filter, paper, filter, paper. The act in itself was soothing. The act of pretending brought back memories of normalcy. I hadn't felt normal in almost fifteen years.
A flash of white and black skittered across my vision. Beth. Beth worked here. Beth in her regulation white Bean Bag Café tee-shirt and black pants. Beth was normal. I suppose Beth thought herself my friend, but of course, we could never be friends. Really.
There she was, just like every night. The 6:00pm to 11:30pm shift. Beth was my waitress. She had my routine down cold.
At 8pm I would show up, seating myself at the same table. The same chair.
At 8:05pm she would bring me my coffee - whatever happened to be the special of the day.
At 9:00pm, she would warm up my cold cup, because she knew if she came by any earlier, I would decline a warm-up.
At 9:15pm she would sit in the chair opposite me, ask for a cigarette, and we would chat for her 15 minute break. No, she would chat. I just listened - one ear on her, and one listening for something else. I couldn't tell you what.
At 9:45pm I would ask her to hold my table as I walked across the street and bought the local paper, which I would scan listlessly until 11:30pm, when the café closed for the evening.
At closing, she would wander over, sometimes just waving a goodnight, sometimes tossing me a "Goodbye" or "Goodnight" or "See ya tomorrow".
I knew she was interested in me, but she never asked me out. I suppose that was a good thing.
I brought the cigarette down to eye level and just glared at it, as if I expected it to apologize. I knew I could smoke it. It was physically possible. I also knew that it would taste absolutely horrid and that I'd cough and choke and my eyes would tear up and I would make a terrible scene.
I hate when the cons outweigh the pros.
As long as it had been since I'd actually physically craved nicotine, the soothing feel of a cigarette between my lips always haunted me. Vampire or not - old habits, were indeed, hard to break. This time, I was giving in. I wanted a cigarette, and I would have a cigarette. I'm sure I can control myself. This time.
But as I was sliding the cigarette between my lips, Beth was sliding into the chair across from me. Her light brown hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, revealing her smooth and shapely neck. Her smile was always bright and cheery, a beautiful light shining in this dim crowd of depressed poetry and darkling children. But it was always her eyes that got me - huge, dark, open and trusting. They always made me long for something. Something to fill a void.
"Hi, Danny," she said, smiling at me, holding out her small hand. A smile tugged at the corner of my lips. I knew the routine. I slipped the cigarette from between my lips and dropped it into her hand. She giggled softly, placing it between her own and lighting the tip with a green plastic bic lighter.
"Still trying to quit, I see? What would happen if I wasn't here to smoke all your cigarettes, huh?" Her voice was light and teasing. I liked that about her. She could make light of any situation. It didn't always have to be serious with her. Unlike... some people I used to know. She made my heavy nights seem less.
"I don't know, Beth. I'd probably be enjoying that smooth tobacco flavor right about now," I joked, absently tapping a gleaming nail on the scratched surface of the old table. She just nodded, knowingly, exhaling a slow stream of smoke into the crisp northern California air.
We sat there in quiet contemplation for a few minutes, when her voice suddenly cut through the air, a bit timid.
"Hey, Danny? How about going to a movie with me after I get off?" she asked, absently tapping ash to the floor, watching it trail down, avoiding my eyes, "There's this theater showing a viewing of this old flick, 'Time Bandits'," she shrugged, offhandedly, "It's supposed to be pretty funny."
Ouch.
I grimaced, shifting my weight. She caught it. I glanced up into her inquiring face, shaking my head slightly.
"Actually, I don't think so," I begged off. Her face fell, and I could see her thoughts racing, struggling of something to say that would save her pride. I felt a twinge of guilt, offering up the first lame excuse I could think of, "I just can't stand Rutger Hauer... is all." I waved my hand in an offhand gesture, as if that would explain it all.
She nodded, a fraction of her smile struggling to resurface. She absently snubbed out the cigarette, rising slowly from the chair.
"Yeah, don't worry about it. Maybe... some other time?"
I nodded, a genuine smile on my lips, although it failed to reach my eyes. She nodded in return and scurried back towards the counter. Towards safety.
I sagged back into that damn chair, my breath slowly rushing out. God, it had been how long since I'd thought of him? How long had it taken for me to make myself forget? Damn him.
I sat there for what must have been an hour, because next thing I knew, Beth was nudging my shoe with the tip of her own, a small grin on her lips as she placed a new cup of coffee on my table next to the old cold one.
"Something must be bugging you tonight, Danny. You never got your paper."
I glanced at my watch. 11:24pm. Hm. She was right. Great. He's consuming my mind. Again. Making me break my routine. I grumbled a bit, and then glanced up at her, smiling weakly, "Yeah... I've actually got a lot on my mind tonight," I muttered, shrugging bit to pretend it didn't bother me.
But it did. It really did.
She smiled apologetically down at me, and then gestured to the new mug as she picked up the old, "Maybe this will brighten your spirits. We're fresh out of house blend, so I thought I'd bring you something special. It's on me."
She smiled once more, turning to leave. I touched her elbow, halting her.
"What is it?" I inquired, furrowing my brow. This was messing up my routine. I had a routine. Everything had to be right. She had to realize...
She glanced over at the chalkboard menu hanging on the wall above the counter, eyes searching for the name. I frowned at the dark liquid, and then leaned over the mug, inhaling the deep, rich scent. As always, the scent of the coffee jolted me, but even more so this time. It smelled lovely. It made me slightly light-headed. Just like caffeine. It was also much more intoxicating than the normal house blend. Richer. More exotic.
"Oh," she said, her voice coming from some far-away place, "Its Italian roast."
And with that, she smiled and sauntered off into the crowd.
I, however, didn't notice. My world had halted. Italian roast.
Italian fucking roast.
Flames sprung up in my mind. A sunrise. Fire. Black words blurring on a pristine white page, scattering before me like ants. He had gone up in flames. The book had said so. Roasted in the dawn.
I bit back a cry of grief and shoved my hands into my hair, resting my elbows on the table, propping my head up. I had to get out of this place.
-
I stared at the body as it sat across from me, leaning back into my other couch. It had a beautiful and peaceful smile on its face. I couldn't help but smile back. It just looked so content. I suppose I was too. Well... as much as I could be. I haven't been truly content in a long time.
But enough about that.
I had other things to think about. Maybe... I'd think over my date. Yes. I had finally allowed Beth to take me out. Away from my coffee house. Away from my routine.
I believe we had a lovely time. Right?
Yes, Danny - we did.
Beth's cheery voice cut through my newspaper-induced haze.
"Okay, Danny. Enough is enough. You sit here moping, every night, looking like someone died."
Very funny, little girl. I can't believe you actually talk to this twit.
I started, almost ripping my newspaper down the middle. No, not you. I don't want to talk to you... I glanced up at Beth, who was blissfully unaware. For once, I welcomed her prattling. It had just saved me from a rather uncomfortable situation.
"... and I just talked to my boss and got my shift switched. We are going out to do something."
I regarded her for longer than I'm sure she felt comfortable with, then quirked an eyebrow, deciding that I needed a distraction tonight.
"Oh, are we?" I asked, smirking playfully. She nodded adamantly, her eyes twinkling, and stood aside, waiting for me to follow along. So, I did. I stood and folded my paper, laying it on the table beside my still-full coffee cup, slid on my jacket, and followed her out.
I let her drag me from place to place, a smile on my face; a mask of fun. But my insides were hazy. They had been for days. I knew exactly why, too, but there was no way in hell I was going to cave. I mean, what was the point of going back? He wouldn't be there. Ever again. Everagaineveragain...
A shiver passed through me. Only when there is a glimmer of hope does one try so hard to smash it down. Maybe he is -
No, Danny. Armand is dead. He's fried up. Crispy. Fucking ashes. Why do you insist on being so ignorant?
Don't. You just want to hurt me.
I tried ignored him. I did.
Suddenly, I was acutely aware of Beth's arm sliding through mine. I was also just as acutely aware that I had forgotten to feed tonight - or the night before - and God, did she smell good. So good... I swallowed hard, a fine haze settling across my vision.
Oh, good. This is the fun part.
I took a deep, shuddering breath and pulled her away from our course and destination. She let out a small squeal of protest, "Hey! Where're we goin'?"
My mind was one-track. Blinders had settled over my eyes. I wanted her, in every way. But I would settle for just one way. I glanced over at her, huge liquid brown eyes capturing me once again. It was all I could do to not take her right there.
"My place," I muttered, tearing my gaze away. It wouldn't do to scare her off. It wouldn't do at all.
Finally. This is right, Danny.
Be quiet. This is not for you.
I glared straight ahead, my pace steady and determined. I thought I heard her laugh - a nervous giggle. I thought I might have cared about her in a distant life. I thought I heard her light voice toss a flippant, "Okay!" in my direction.
Good for her. At least this was consenting.
I had a small condo in the peaceful part of the city. No need for something big and empty. That only made loneliness more apparent. As we approached door, I fumbled around in my pocket for the key. Ah, there. Unlock the door. Inside. Wonderful. As soon as we stepped foot in my living room, I had my mouth on hers. Her initial protest died as she pressed herself against me, arms winding around my neck.
I lost myself in my senses. Her lips tasted slightly like strawberry lip balm. I remembered lip balm. I nibbled gently on them and she sighed softly, the fingers of one hand playing lightly across the back of my neck. I ran my hands along her sides, kneading the flesh beneath my fingers. So soft, malleable, pliant. So human. Warm. I pulled my lips from hers, silencing her small protest by placing a gentle kiss on the side of her neck. She emitted a soft moan, her head falling to the side, her fingers in my hair, wanting more. She wanted more. I wanted more. More.
Yes, more.
I parted my lips, running the very tip of my tongue along the moist, salty flesh. Bliss. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, teasing myself. Bringing myself up to look into her eyes, I reached up with one hand and brushed the blonde locks from her face. I gazed into those eyes for what seemed like countless house. I lost myself. I allowed it.
Bye-bye, little girl.
Just like his. So very much like his. Beautiful and deep brown... like his. Lost in them... like his. They must be... his.
Bye-bye, Danny.
I smiled.
"Armand..." I murmured, nuzzling back into the neck. It must be Armand's neck. No one else has eyes like his.
"I missed you... I missed you so much," I cooed, gathering the small form against me, tightly, disregarding the sudden strangled sound it made.
"Armand, Armand... I thought you were dead..." I squeezed tighter and the figure jerked, the knees giving away. I smiled, giggling softly, "Okay, Armand... I'll hold you up..."
I kissed the soft skin again, now slightly chilled, and sank my fangs in. I moaned deep in my chest as the flesh parted as easily as hot butter, the warm rich blood pooling on my tongue. Never mind that it wasn't Armand filling my mind as I drank, but the memories of my dear friend Beth. Never mind that this blood was weak by comparison. Merely sustenance. Not love. Never mind that I knew I was losing it...
Never mind that I had just killed my only friend in this godforsaken city.
Never mind.
Her body dropped to the floor.
I stared at the body for a few more minutes before stretching my legs out in front of me, releasing the cramping that had built from my sitting there in perfect stillness for the past four hours. I stood and walked over in front of the body. I couldn't even call it Beth anymore. I wasn't sure who it was.
I didn't care. I just wanted the eyes.
They were his eyes.
I ran my index finger slowly along the lid of the right eye, and then gently slipped it inside the ocular cavity, snapping the bundle of nerves and veins that connected the eye to the brain. I did the same with the left eye.
I wrapped them up in a handkerchief and placed them in my pocket, so they'd always be with me. Then I reached up and slowly lowered both of the body's eyelids, slowly placing a gentle kiss on its forehead.
"I love you..." I whispered, and then turned on my heel and made my way upstairs.
Entering my room, I shed my jacket, shoes and belt, carefully extracting the handkerchief-wrapped bundle from my pocket and placing it on the nightstand. Then I yanked my shirt over my head, letting it drop to the floor. I walked over to the windows, pulling shut the huge and heavy velvet draperies, the only thing that's ever effectively kept out the sunlight. After securing them, I dropped back on the bed and flipped on the television with the remote control, while removing my socks at the same time.
The scene on the television exploded out of darkness, the sun shining down on sandy beaches and palm trees. Mortal tourists in their bathing suits, tanned skin like Gods and Goddesses. The water clear and blue, waves crashing foamy against the shore. The announcer's words floating around my brain.
".. So come visit Miami! Get away for five sun-drenched days and four scorching nights with our special offer..."
I stilled. Tensed. Every nerve in my body taunt.
Yes. That's where I had to be. That's where he would be.
Jesus, Danny - you're so fucking stupid.
I'm ignoring you. I need to see him. I have to give them back... He needs them to see.
Lunatic.
I reached over to the phone that sat on the nightstand next to the bed. Within an hour I had a private jet chartered to fly me to Miami at midnight. No questions asked. Money was definitely useful at times.
It will be so good to see Armand again.
Armand is dead, Danny.
Shut up. You don't know anything.
I know you're completely nuts, and you know it, too.
Pause.
Yeah, well... Maybe... maybe it's better than this. Maybe it's just easier this way. Maybe...
But I never finished that thought as the death sleep overtook me.
I didn't pack any luggage for my trip to Miami. I wasn't expecting to stay there for more than the night. I was going there for one reason and one reason only: to see Armand.
Either he would be there, standing on the beach of my Night Island, whole and real, or I would meet him with the first rays of the dawn. Either way, I could not continue going on this way. I had spent the better part of the evening in thought.
It was one thing to be slowly loosing your mind and not knowing it, but being acutely and consciously aware that you were going off your rocker is a different thing entirely. I cannot have this. I cannot go on, living all my nights this way for the rest of my existence.
I would see Armand tonight. He has to be there. I know he is. I just... I just can't accept him being gone. You'd think I would have... felt it somehow, if he were truly gone. He is my maker. There has to be that connection...
Yeah, and if he had that connection to you right now, he'd be staying as far away from you as he could, 'cause you're loosing it, Danny. You're fucking gone. And so is he. Gone. Dust on the wind, my friend.
Dust...
I traced circles in the dust on the table next to my chair. I suppose it wasn't often someone requested a private jet. I guess they didn't clean them that often. If I were a saner man, I'd be angry at this.
I sighed. The private jet was necessary, of course, for the obvious reasons. One of those fancy affairs, with the lounge and bar and posh chairs and all that shit that didn't matter anymore. I sat on the edge of one of those chairs, my elbows resting on my thighs, hands clasped loosely in front of me, eyes staring blankly through the floor at something on the other side.
That dust on the wind thing doesn't sound like a half-bad idea. Soothing... just to float away like that. No more troubles. No more wondering, what if... what if...
What if you just shut up? You're not going to do it. You're not strong enough to end it. You will live until the earth crumbles beneath your feet, if you think there's even a snowball's chance in hell that you'd see him again. So stop fucking talking that way.
I narrowed my eyes, growling softly, "No. I will. I don't this anymore. You. This. I want it over."
My voice sounded strange and foreign. It reminded me of those days when Armand still chased me around the world; those days when cheap cigarettes and whiskey clung to my clothes and seeped from my voice like my very essence itself. Roughened my voice.
There is no more you. There is only him.
That voice which was heavy with grief and pain, soft with passion long forgotten, that sounded so unlike my own when I heard it touch my ears as I spoke.
"Yes, I know. And that's only the most terrible thing about it. To let one person have this much power over you... and to crave it so... consuming..."
I had just settled back in the chair and closed my tired eyes, weary already from the notion that this was a complete waste of time, and I would be back on this plane ten minutes after I got off, when the pilot's voice sounded over the small speaker.
"We should be landing down near your villa in approximately five minutes, Mr. Malloy. Do you have any further instructions before I prepare for the landing, sir?"
I closed my eyes briefly, lifting my hand to press the small button beside me, leaning to speak into the speaker, my voice soft, "Nothing. Just wait for one hour. If I haven't returned by then, you're free to go. Thank you for your services."
The speaker crackled once more, "My pleasure, sir. Now, if you'll please buckle up, I'll try to make this as smooth as possible."
And suddenly, I felt the soft sand beneath my feet. Those feet that were carrying me ever closer to the enormous empty building, that stood cold and ghostly on the dark shore of my Night Island. I blinked as time shifted around me. How strange. I didn't even remember exiting the plane.
Well, this is it. This is it.
Calm down. You're going to get yourself all worked up for nothing. It'll just be harder to face when he's not here. I mean, look at the place. No one's lived here for years...
No. It's going to be different, now. It has to be. I cannot accept -
Whatever you need to tell yourself, Danny. Whatever you need to say to pretend you have any idea that you know what you're doing.
I stopped mid-step and squeezed my eyes shut tight, pulling my grey trench coat tight around my shoulders, my voice coming out in a mutter as I continued my trod.
"Shut up. Shut up. Shut up..."
And as suddenly as I found myself on the beach, I found myself on the rooftop of the villa. White stucco expanse, as wide as the building itself. I started suddenly, not at all liking this. Not enjoying this time displacement bullshit.
Jesus. I really have lost it. Now I'm blacking out.
Don't worry about it. I'm here, man. You know I'm here to help you.
And now we are sarcastic.
So this is it, huh? I raised my wrist, checking the time. 3:30am.
Sunrise is in about two hours. Give or take. I guess... this is it.
I took a deep breath and reached inside my coat pocket, feeling the familiar and comforting cardboard box and palming it, drawing it slowly out. One last cigarette before the execution. I placed the slim, white paper cylinder between my lips and brought the flame of a single match to it, watching the paper catch and burn quickly, the pungent scent of acrid smoke filling my nose before it hit my lungs.
Yes. We knew it was a bad idea.
My chest rejected the smoke harshly and I let out a choking cough that echoed for what seemed like days. It brought tears to my eyes. Or so I told myself.
I can't. I can't go on like this. It's too hard. It's too fucking hard without him. It's too lonely. I need him. I miss him. I want him and love him...
I lowered myself down, sitting back on my heels, wrapping the coat around my body and legs, the offending cigarette dangling between the fingers of my right hand and I lowered my face to my knees and let out a sob. All those years of loneliness came pouring out.
"Please come back..." I wasn't even ashamed at how small my voice sounded. I could barely even catch my own whispered words as the wind carried them away.
"Come back. I can't do this alone."
I sat there for what seemed like hours, but I knew it couldn't have been, because if it had been, I would have been toast by now. I can't say I wasn't a little more than thoroughly disappointed.
I felt the knowing signs of the death sleep pulling at my bones, urging me to seek shelter from the dawn. I wanted to, but that was just instinct. What I really wanted was to float away on the morning breeze.
Ashes to ashes, and all that.
Danny, just get the fuck inside. You won't do it. You know you can't off yourself until you know if he's really dead or not. Stop fucking around.
And now you're scared.
I smiled bitterly at this and shook my head, wrapping my arms tighter around my legs, determined that this would be the last time.
"No. Get the fuck out of my head. Leave me alone. I don't need you. I'm leaving this place... I don't need you..." I muttered that over and over again, trying to make myself believe it.
But a whispered voice interrupted my thoughts.
There's someone coming...